Misfits Like Us
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Another "save Harry from the Dursleys" story, set near the end of the first book. Hagrid's large heart has a soft spot for all misunderstood creatures, including human ones.


Misfits Like Us

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Harry Potter

Copyright: JK Rowling

"So, Harry … " Rubeus Hagrid cleared his throat, shifting back and forth on a too-small hospital chair. "Goin' home soon, ain't yeh?"

The boy in the bed nodded.

"Ter them Dursleys."

"Yeah."

Harry Potter's face twisted into a bitter, unchildlike look he quickly suppressed.

Lying under a pile of white blankets, his cheeks hollow and his eyes bloodshot with nightmares, he looked even more fragile than usual. It was hard to believe he had survived You-Know-Who once, let alone twice. Hagrid could have picked him up with one arm, as he had once done with little Aragog or baby Norbert. Just like these animals, however, Harry would grow up into a force to be reckoned with … and if ever there were three people utterly wrong for raising him, it was the cruel, petty, vindictive idiots Professor Dumbledore had chosen for the task.

Hagrid would cheerfully die for the generous employer who had done so much for him, but he was also a patron of the Hog's Head and a friend of Aberforth. He knew that even Dumbledore could make mistakes, and he had certainly made one by leaving the Boy Who Lived at number four, Privet Drive. If Hagrid had only known then what sort of people the Dursleys were, wild Hippogriffs would not have dragged the child away from him that night.

The Headmaster had not been easy to convince, especially with decades' worth of profoundest loyalty tying Hagrid's tongue. The protection of Lily Potter's blood had been a strong argument; however, the life experiences of both men had proven stronger. Family ties could protect you, true enough; however, in the wrong circumstances, they could also poison the soul like nothing else. For a half-giant whose mother had mocked, beaten, and finally abandoned him, that fact was obvious. Whatever dark secrets were in Dumbledore's past (Aberforth hinted, but Hagrid refused to pry), they had taught him the same thing.

Harry Potter, they finally agreed, was too important to risk losing to the dark side. And what safer place was there than inside the boundaries of Hogwarts, in a simple gamekeeper's cottage where nobody would think to look?

Hagrid took a deep breath, cleared his throat once again, and gathered his courage. The worst the child could do was say no.

"On'y I've bin thinkin' … " he began. "Seein' as yeh don't seem too keen to go there … " Harry shot him an ironic little smile. "Professor Dumbledore and me had a bit of a chat the other day, and er … I asked him if maybe you could stay up at the cottage. With me."

The boy's green eyes flew wide open. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"I know there ain't much space," he hurried to say, "But I can always get the teachers ter charm it bigger. Yeh could have yer own room. I wouldn't let any o' the Forest critters hurt yeh, I promise, an' Fang wouldn't even _look_ crosswise at that owl o'yers - "

He began to ramble, afraid of the all-too-likely rejection – Harry was polite, but how many children would want to stay with a monster like him? So when Harry's face began to gradually light up into a wide, bright, honest-to-goodness _smile_, Hagrid was so shocked he nearly broke his chair into fragments.

"You mean I don't have to go back?" he breathed. "I can stay here? Near Hogwarts? With _you_?"

"Aye," said Hagrid. "If it's all righ' with yeh."

"_All right?_" Harry flushed from neck to ears, reached out his hand, then drew it back. His eyes narrowed and his jaw set with fierce determination, like a very young Seeker diving for the Snitch. "Thank you, Hagrid," he burst out. "You won't be sorry. I'll be the best assistant I can be. I'll carry your bag, keep the house clean, do all the cooking, help you with the animals – I won't be any trouble, I promise you!"

Hagrid fought back a sudden impulse to track down the Dursleys and test his broken wand on them again, this time with something stronger than Transfiguration.

"I don' need no assistant," he said gruffly.

Harry's flush deepened. "Then why – "

"Fang's good company, but 'e don' talk. The centaurs – well, you met 'em. An' the other folks at Hogwarts don' come 'round so much. Ter be honest," he said, "It gets lonesome. Misfits like us, we gotta stick together."

Harry did not take offense, as Hagrid had known he wouldn't. He only smiled, that same smile of unbridled joy he had shown at tasting his very first birthday cake. For once, the hero of the Wizarding World looked like the innocent eleven-year-old he should have been.

He put out his hand again, but Hagrid ignored it, and instead did what his own father had done before that first growth spurt made it impossible. Cautiously, mindful of his giant's strength and Harry's lingering illness, he gathered his small friend into a hug.

Ten years ago, he had held an orphaned, freshly scarred baby in the palm of his hand and wept with pity for the unhappy future awaiting him. Today, however, the tears runing down his face and into Harry's hair were tears of joy.


End file.
